


oh god, i'm clean out of air (caught up in the ocean of it)

by batterwitchofhope (rhinemannultra)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Biting, Cuddling, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Talk, Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, F/F, Kissing, Making Out, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Pre-Relationship, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, but like only a little bit? its mostly just banter, ear touching, just some girls being gay and soft, lesbian longing: the fic, lucretia being a useless lesbian with the worlds worst crush, lup just wants to drink her respect women juice but she doesnt know how to talk to girls, the "lup teaches lucretia to shotgun" fic we all deserve, this is pre-blupjeans but let the record state lup has 2 hands. one for barold one for lucy, this one gets sorta horny but its not smut or anything, thoroughly consensual, weed gays! weed gays! weed gays!, yeah i bought into the whole sexy elf ears thing whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhinemannultra/pseuds/batterwitchofhope
Summary: “I’ve, um. I’ve never gotten high before. Or tried to, for that matter,” Lucretia says.“Wow, I never would have guessed,” Lup deadpans, and Lucretia glares at her softly, something underpinned by fondness. “I kinda figured, silly. I thought it might be fun. Teach you how, and stuff.”Lucretia raises an eyebrow. “And stuff.”Lup shrugs, in that faux-casual way that her and Taako both have. “I dunno. I could teach you to shotgun. Smoke you out. It’ll be fun.”Lucretia feels a laugh bubbling up out of her chest, and she looks at Lup, backlit by all the silver streaming in from the stars. And shewants, and it’s been so long since she let herself have something good.Fuck it.“Sure,” she says, grinning. “Why not?”





	oh god, i'm clean out of air (caught up in the ocean of it)

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be short...somehow here we are, 7k words later. what can i say i love women
> 
> anyway, i hope u enjoy! big warning for drug use specifically weed
> 
> the first part of the title is from "sober" by lorde & the second part in parenthesis is from "feels good to be high" by walk the moon which is 4 mins 20 secs long lmao. uhh blaze it i guess

Lup is indescribable. 

This has been a quiet, intimate source of vexation for more cycles than Lucretia cares to admit, infuriating and _small_ like a splinter caught under her skin. 

_It doesn’t hurt unless she thinks about it._

Lup is _indescribable_ , her soul has always been too broad and glowing of a thing for language to encapsulate, but words are all Lucretia has. 

She’s tried to pin Lup down before, ink to paper like pinned butterfly wings but no matter how many pages she fills, how many meticulous sketches she carves out in the margins, in the end it inevitably feels...cheap. She’s left with aching wrists and an aching heart and nothing good to show for it. 

That’s not to say that describing the others is necessarily an _easy_ task; she’s spent her share of restless nights hunched over notebooks trying to define the trip of a smile, the rush of a laugh. It’s painstaking, careful work, but it’s rewarding, redeeming, it’s something she can get _right._

Lup is, in and of herself, an exception. 

Lucretia has half a mind to think that she was born to defy definition itself, to be essentially aberrant, departing from the standard and breaking all the rules on her way down. 

Maybe Lup is sacrosanct, something wild and holy, the kind of girl that catches others in her orbit, her gravity strong enough to bring Lucretia to her knees.

Or, maybe, just maybe, Lucretia’s simply too damn gay. 

Lup is, among other things, physically impossible to ignore. She has a way of making her presence known and demanding attention, like a particularly spoiled cat shoving its head into the palm of your hand the moment you stop petting it. 

(Lucretia happens to love cats.)

“Lucy, c’mon,” she whines, her voice as singsong as ever, lined with the velvet suggestion of a joke you’re not in on. She’s perched on the corner of Lucretia’s desk, her long legs dangling beneath her, the heels of her bare feet occasionally thumping against the wood of the drawers below. “Sometime this cycle would be nice,” she teases.

Lucretia smiles in spite of herself, turning pages as she finishes a paragraph. “Very funny, Lup. Haven’t heard that one before.” 

Lup laughs. “Hey, a girl’s gotta run out of joke material sometime.” 

Lucretia tips her head slightly, raises an eyebrow as if to silently say _fair enough._

“Lucy.” 

Lucretia doesn’t reply, instead racking her brain to describe the exact shade of the unfamiliar flower that Merle brought back to the ship today. 

_Hazel,_ her brain provides. _Chestnut. Terracotta, taupe, sand, wheat, honey. Amber._

The flower, she sternly reminds herself, is red. It’s just a bit distracting, the way it’s tucked in Lup’s hair, above her ear. Lup is painted in thousands of shades of rich, warm earth tones, between her hair and her eyes and the soft stretches of her skin, the scars and freckles littered across it. 

_Pick your battles, Lucretia._

“You’re staring, buttercup.” 

Lucretia blinks, coming back to herself all at once, feeling heat rising to her face. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, her gaze shifting back to her journal. Scarlet, she decides, and when she’s finished crossing the t she caps her pen carefully, sets it down, looks up.

Lup is smirking at her. On a good day, it’s devastating, pretty enough to have Lucretia melting in the palm of her hand. On a bad day, it’s downright terrifying. 

Today, it’s the kind of smirk that means Lup has an idea, that she’s found some new kind of mischief to get herself into, that she’s looking for a partner in crime.

“I’m done now,” she says, slow and careful, unsure of what she might be getting herself into. “I’m all yours.”

_God, if only._

“About damn time,” Lup says, cheerful as ever. There’s a quiet beat, and then she’s smiling, and Lucretia knows she’s in for it. “So. Lucy.”

“...Yes?” she replies tentatively.

“Let’s talk hypotheticals for a sec. You’re clearly stressed as all hell. You’re done with your work, you could use a night off.” Lup sees Lucretia open her mouth to argue, and she holds her palm up, cutting her off. “And don’t even try to argue with me on that front, babe. You look like hell.”

Lucretia sighs. “Where are you going with this?” she asks, voice flat, levelling her best unamused expression Lup’s way. She knows Lup means it only in kindness- she’s concerned, and to be fair, it’s not exactly unwarranted. Lucretia has a long track record of working herself into the ground. 

Lup laughs softly, continuing. “Let a girl finish, damn! Anyway. You’ve got nothin’ better to do, you look like you could use some company, and I happen to have a hell of a lot of weed.”

Lucretia blinks. “Come again?” She asks, and her voice squeaks just a little. 

“Jesus, Lucretia. Weed. Do I have to spell it out for you? M, A, R,-”

Lucretia clears her throat. “No, I know, I heard you, I just. Wasn’t expecting that. Where...where did you even find it?” she asks.

Lup scoffs. “Dude, where the fuck do you think?”

Taako, obviously. Lucretia nods, and Lup continues.

“We’ve had it with us this whole time. It makes it through the reset for some reason. Probably ‘cause the universe feels like one helluva bitch for saddling us with this fuckin’ snafu. Gotta have some way to cope.”

Now that, Lucretia can understand. There have been quite a few nights where Lup or one of the others has found her up on the main deck, sprawled on the floor, drunk out of her goddamn mind. 

In the past thirty years, Lucretia’s gotten better at a lot of things. Moderation, unfortunately, is not one of them.

“So, to clarify,” she says, “You’re asking me to get high with you.”

Lup grins, and it’s like the sun breaking through clouds. “Mhm!” 

Lucretia considers it. 

Lup mistakes her pause for the denial it’s not, and her smile softens into something sweet and reassuring. “You don’t have to, babe, ‘s up to you. If you just wanna chill or whatever, that’s cool too.”

Lucretia shakes her head. “No,” she says, her voice soft. “No, I’m just thinking about it.”

She wants to. But what she wants, and what she ends up talking herself out of, well. The two have a way of aligning more than they probably should.

“Clever girl,” Lup teases, warm and wry, and Lucretia gets that odd sense again that Lup knows something she doesn’t, that something just went over her head. “Take your time,” she says, unusually sincere. It makes something itch inside of Lucretia’s ribs. 

“I’ve, um. I’ve never gotten high before. Or tried to, for that matter,” she says. She doesn’t offer this up as rationale for declining, merely a fact. She’s well past the cycle where she realized that trying to impress Lup is a fruitless venture, and if her self control hasn’t changed in the last thirty some-odd years, her capacity for candid truth has improved tenfold. 

“Wow, I never would have guessed,” Lup deadpans, and Lucretia glares at her softly, something underpinned by fondness. “I kinda figured, silly. That’s why I thought it might be fun. Teach you how, and stuff.”

Lucretia raises an eyebrow. “And stuff.”

Lup shrugs, in that faux-casual way that her and Taako both have. “I dunno. I could teach you to shotgun. Smoke you out. It’ll be fun.”

Lucretia feels a laugh bubbling up out of her chest, and she looks at Lup, backlit by all the silver streaming in from the stars. And she _wants_ , and it’s been so long since she let herself have something good. 

_Fuck it._

“Sure,” she says, grinning. “Why not?”

 

She follows a giddy, overeager Lup down the hallways of the Starblaster, hand in hand as Lup tugs her out of her office and down into the underbelly of the ship. They trip through doorways and over floors, laughing as Lup clips corners and misses steps on the stairs, as Lucretia loses her footing in her sock-feet and skids a little. They’re crashing into the walls and each other, palms locked together, giggly like they’re already drunk. 

It’s been far too long since Lucretia let herself feel wild, young, foolish. She’s delirious with the hot, dizzy mess of it.

As Lup fumbles with her keys, Lucretia waits, back pressed up along the wall beside the door, catching her breath and watching Lup in profile- cheeks flushed, hair fighting its way free of her messy bun, loose strands falling down around her neck, her temples, the brutally soft angle of her jaw. It’s in her face, and Lucretia wants so badly to brush it back behind one of her gorgeous ears, let her fingertips skim along the length of it- 

The door opens, and Lup turns to grin at her, saccharine and taunting, and for just a moment, Lucretia feels almost like she’s been caught- caught staring, caught wishing, caught _wanting._ But then Lup’s smile softens, easy and genuine, and Lucretia clears her throat, and the moment passes.

“Why do you still keep your door locked, anyway?” she asks, following Lup into her room and closing it quietly behind them. “I don’t lock mine. I figure if anyone were to steal my things, they’d probably have done it by now.” 

Lup laughs, kicking her shoes off into a pile of laundry halfway across the room, flopping down on her bed in a truly spectacular fashion. “Well clearly someone’s an only child,” she teases.

Lucretia smiles, nods. “Okay, point taken,” she concedes, setting herself down gently on the edge of Lup’s bed. 

“Besides,” Lup says, scrambling to sit upright, her legs folded underneath her as she rummages through her nightstand drawer, “who said it was about stealing my shit? It’s been what, thirty two cycles? Thirty three? I should think I can trust you chucklefucks at least as far as I can throw you by now. It’s not about that, it’s about having a place that’s just mine. Can’t be letting just anybody in here, ya dig? Lup and nobody else, we’re in this bitch!” 

Her voice is as bright and cheerful as it always is, but Lucretia can hear the note of sincerity running underneath. It makes sense, if she thinks about it- a kind of haven, somewhere to go when she needs an escape. For being so extroverted, Lup has always been rather protective of her space. She doesn’t invite the others over all too often, and she spends the vast majority of her free time up in the common areas, or in someone else’s room rather than her own, playing cards or getting drunk or just talking. She only ever seems to stay in her room at night, and even then there’s a chance she’s somewhere else instead. Lucretia knows that she stays with Taako some nights for company, on account of neither of them needing to sleep. On the nights when they do, they’ll seek each out after nightmares. She knows because she’s crossed paths with them before, in the hallway on her way to bed, in the kitchen when she wakes up thirsty. 

(She understands, of course she does. She has Magnus to talk to on the worst nights, and he has her.)

_Speaking of Magnus._ She imagines talking with him tomorrow, telling him about the shenanigans that her and Lup got up to, pictures his face, something between brotherly pride and well-meaning concern. She snorts a faint laugh. 

“What’s so funny, babes?” Lup asks, sounding amused, and the nickname courses fire through Lucretia’s heart. 

“Nothing,” she says, “I’m just about to get high, is all. With you.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d say Lup’s brown eyes were glittering in the light of the glowing pastel crystals scattered across the wall, along the ceiling; warm with something akin to fondness. But she’s not stupid. She knows better, knows not to confuse fond amusement with the feeling of being looked down upon, embarrassing herself as Lup watches from higher ground. 

“Hell yeah you are,” Lup says, finally producing from her nightstand a velvet pouch, a small grinder, and a red glass pipe. Lucretia shifts closer to watch, the motion of Lup’s hands deft and mesmerizing. Finally, she sets the pouch and the grinder aside, smirking up at Lucretia. “Let’s light this puppy up, yeah?”

She snaps her fingers, conjuring up a small lick of flame between them and bringing it to the bowl of the pipe, letting it catch. Lucretia can’t tell if she usually forgoes matches or a lighter in favor of her magic, or if she’s just showing off, but either way, it’s profoundly unfair.

“Alright, so,” Lup continues, “Watch my hands. I'll light it and you just gotta breathe in and try to hold it as long as you can, capiche? Careful with the fire, don't get too close. I’ll go first so you can watch.”

Lucretia nods, watching Lup light the pipe and inhale. She closes her eyes, holds her breath for several long seconds, and then she’s exhaling, white smoke, earthy and sticky-sweet. She opens her eyes and holds the pipe out to Lucretia like an offering. 

“You sure? You don’t have to,” she says, and Lucretia shakes her head, taking the pipe from her.

“I’m positive,” she says, bringing it to her lips and trying not to think about how Lup’s lips were on it just a moment before. Lup lights it for her, and she takes a deep breath and holds it in her chest for just a second or two before she’s coughing it up, choking for air, eyes watering and throat stinging.

“Shit,” Lup says, scrambling to take the pipe from her, getting up to grab a cup of water from off her desk, passing it to Lucretia. “I forgot, fuck, Luce, I’m sorry. Here, babe, have some water. You good?”

She accepts it gratefully and drinks. It looks and tastes like it’s been sitting out for a few days, but she doesn’t have it in her to be picky at the moment. She coughs a few more times, taking long sips of water in between, taking a moment to get her airway back under control before talking. 

“Jesus, Lup. Warn a girl.” 

Lup’s laughing, but it’s alright because they both are, and she sets a hand on Lucretia’s shoulder for a moment, smoothing it down her arm softly to comfort her. “Shit, sorry, my bad. That’s normal your first time, I just forgot to tell you ‘cause it’s been so long since I smoked with anyone other than Taako.”

Lucretia nods, smiling wryly. “It’s fine, Lup. I’m alright, I can handle a little coughing. It’s not as bad the second time around though, is it?” 

“Mm, shouldn’t be?” Lup says, bringing the pipe up for a second hit. “Take it slow, hon, don’t try and keep pace with me, I’ve got a hell of a tolerance- also, elf. If you try again and it’s still fucking you over, we can try something else that’ll be a little easier on you, yeah?” She breathes in, relaxes, exhales, does it again. She hands the pipe back to Lucretia, and she’s got this lazy smile on her face, eyes half-lidded. 

“Alright,” Lucretia says, sighing softly. “Let’s try this again.” She waits for Lup to light it for her, the flame at her fingertips warming her face from inches away. She takes a second hit, smaller this time, slower, and with Lup watching she manages to hold it for a count of six before breathing out, but she still coughs on the exhale, alternating gasps of air and water for a moment until the discomfort subsides. Definitely better than the first time, but still far from ideal. She feels a bit fuzzy around the edges, but it’s hard to tell how much of that is the weed and how much of it is just being around Lup, and in any case, she thinks it’s probably too soon to tell.

“Okay, executive decision,” Lup says, taking the pipe back. “Coughing your fuckin’ guts up ain’t the best look on you, Luce, no offense.”

“None taken,” Lucretia mutters, closing her eyes. 

“You tried your best though, so good job on that, but I’m gonna make this a little easier on you. C’mere.”

Lucretia cracks open one eye to see Lup patting a space on the bed directly in front of her, and she slowly moves to sit there, cross-legged with her hands in her lap, face to face with Lup.

“Haven't done this in a while,” Lup says, soft and conspiratorial like she's telling a secret, “but bear with me here.” 

Lucretia nods. “Okay. What... are we doing, exactly?”

Lup grins. “You tell me, it's up to you. I was just gonna teach you how to shotgun, if you wanted.”

Lucretia feels her face getting hot as she pictures it, and she nods a little, and she wonders, not for the first time tonight, if this is an awful idea.

“Alright,” she says, “tell me what to do.” She tries her best to ignore the soft rush that the phrase sends through her. 

“It's easy,” Lup says, shifting just ever so slightly closer, the points of their knees touching. “I'll take a hit, and when I let it go, all you gotta do is breathe in and catch the smoke. You're inhaling off my exhale. Should be a little more gentle since it's secondhand.”

“Got it, I think,” Lucretia says as Lup brings the pipe up to her mouth. “How, uh. How close do I have to be?”

Lup laughs, her nose crinkling up with it the way it does sometimes. “Uh, like kissing distance?” she teases, tucking her hair back behind her ear, Lucretia caught between the soft points of her ears, her nails, her canines. “I'm not gonna bite you.”

Lucretia allows herself a moment to wish that Lup _would_ before dismissing the thought.

“Go ahead,” she says faintly. “I think I've got it.” 

She watches as Lup takes a drag, waits for her exhale, but then there's a hand cupping the back of Lucretia’s neck, warm and soft and a bit clammy, Lup’s rings digging into her skin, and Lup's parting her lips and pulling her in and _oh, fuck._

Lup breathes out, and they're so _close_ like this, and the sight of smoke pouring from her lips is so fucking _exquisite_ that Lucretia almost forgets to breathe in.

It's easier going down this time, far less of the harsh burn along her throat, and she's able to hold it in her lungs for a moment, let it warm her from the inside. She leans back, lets it out easy, laughs. 

“There you go,” Lup says, looking thrilled. “That's it. How's my girl feeling?”

_Her girl,_ Lucretia thinks, a bit absently. _Huh._

“Good,” she answers, and it's every ounce the truth. She blinks a couple times, wiggles her fingertips, feeling something soft and unfamiliar but altogether _pleasant_ settling over her like a quilt. “I feel... good.”

Lup laughs, and God, if that isn't the nicest sound. “Yeah?” she asks, her voice a gentle kind of tease. “You must be feeling pretty _good_ if that's all you can come up with right now, girl wonder.” 

“Shut up,” Lucretia says, laughing, swatting lightly at Lup’s arm. She doesn't think she's _high,_ not yet, but she's definitely starting to feel _something,_ and she thinks she likes it. “I can't be a walking dictionary all the time.”

Lup looks amused, hands her the pipe. “Tonight's your night off then, huh?” she says softly. “And you're spending it with me, aren't I a lucky girl?”

Lucretia cocks her head a little, fixes Lup with a searching look. It was the kind of thing that should have sounded disparaging, sarcastic, especially coming from Lup. But somehow, between the smoke and the laughter and the shrinking space between them, it came out strikingly genuine instead. Wistful, kind of. Reverent, almost.

“Lup,” she says softly, and she's not sure if she meant to think it or say it out loud, can't put her finger on the tone she used. Neutral, maybe. Saying her name just to say it, for the feeling of it curling serpentine and heady against the roof of her mouth.

Lup licks her lips and smiles, looking down between them to grab the pipe, breaking their eye contact and taking all the tension of the moment with it. “Yeah, someone's feeling it alright. You want another one?” 

“Please,” Lucretia says out of habit, polite despite feeling hazy, indistinct.

“Yes ma'am,” Lup replies, taking another hit, and Lucretia lets herself stare, watching the motion of Lup’s ribs beneath her worn-in IPRE t shirt, watching her inhale under thin white cotton. She admires the wash of color high on Lup’s cheeks, dusting the tops of her ears, illuminated in the glow of the flame. She watches Lup close her eyes to savor it, tilt her head back for a moment, roll one of her shoulders back as if trying to work out a kink. 

She's anticipating the timing of the exhale this time, and she moves in on her own to meet it, but Lup's hand settles claiming and hot on the back of her neck anyway, and Lucretia leans into it, grateful for the way it steadies her as she draws the smoke down deep into her lungs. She closes her eyes, hums a little, lets herself feel the way it both dampens and sharpens her senses, lets her lungs start to ache with it a little before she sighs to clear her throat.

She opens her eyes, and Lup hasn't leaned back, still practically in her lap, eyes hazy and mouth open a little, like- like she's _wanting_. Lucretia swallows, suddenly unbearably aware of all the places where they're touching.

“Something on my face?” she asks, gentle, teasing, and Lup's ears twitch back briefly in a gesture that almost looks shy. 

“Yeah,” she replies softly, the corner of her perfectly sculpted lips quirking up into a smile, warm, wry. “A hell of a lot of pretty.”

Lucretia laughs, an embarrassed but flattered sort of giggle, and she gets the faraway thought that if she weren't borderline high right now, this much eye contact would be uncomfortable at best, damningly obvious at worst. She’s biting her lip, and it draws Lup’s eye, and she's staring at her mouth now, and _oh._

Lup’s hand moves, sears its way along the back of her neck, curves to play against her jaw, and Lucretia closes her eyes. She feels the tips of Lup's nails dance past the soft, hollow skin beneath her ear, brush sweet and sharp over her pulse like a promise. She lets out a breath but it catches and she _whines,_ involuntary.

“Oh, Lucretia,” Lup coos, and she drags her thumb agonizingly slowly across Lucretia's lower lip, tugging it free of her teeth. “You’re full of surprises.” 

Lucretia shivers, the heady electrifying kind, and she opens her eyes to meet Lup’s, and she feels peeled open and raw. “And _you're_ being a tease,” she retorts, shocked by it the moment it leaves her mouth.

Lup laughs. Honest to God, throws her head back a little, laughs, and it's too loud for the space between them but Lucretia wouldn't have it any other way. 

“Alright, guilty,” she says, cocking her head a little, one of her ears flicking up in what Lucretia has come to know as interest. _Curiosity._ “But somehow I don't get the impression that you mind all that much. Kind of seems like you like it.”

Lucretia swears under her breath. “Jesus, Lup, you're killing me,” she says, laughing softly because Lup is _impossible_ but Lucretia is high, or something close to it, and Lup _knows,_ knows her heart, and Lucretia doesn't care that she knows, not right now.

Lup grins. “I know. Luce, sweetheart, you high yet?”

Lucretia hums vaguely, wiggles one of her hands back and forth, shrugs a little. “Almost, I think.” 

“Let's get you there. First things first, though, full disclosure,” she says, brisk and business-like, “I think I'd like to kiss you, and I need to know if that's alright now before you’re too fucked up. Just making out, though, I want to be clear. Thoughts?” She has her eyes focused down on the pipe as she fiddles with it, but her ears are pinned back, waiting, anxious, expectant.

“Yes, absolutely, fuck, go ahead,” Lucretia says quickly, too wrapped up in the moment to give a damn if she sounds eager. “That's... fine, that's more than fine, I'd like that very much.”

Lup looks up at her sharply, expression blank and guarded for a moment before it blooms hopeful and elated. “Cool,” she says, and Lucretia reaches out, heart in her throat, to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear. Her fingertips trace the top of Lup’s ear for a moment, lingering on the soft skin, and it twitches a little as Lup lets out a faint hiss of _“Fuck,”_ eyes wide.

“Good?” Lucretia asks, stilling her hand but not pulling it back. It certainly looked like a good reaction, but Lucretia's never kissed an elf before, and she certainly hasn't kissed a _Lup_ , and in the back of her mind it strikes her as the sort of thing that would probably benefit from clarification.

“Sensitive,” Lup offers by way of reply, and Lucretia hums softly in understanding, running her thumbnail along it to the tip just to watch Lup sigh and shiver. She lets her hand fall to settle on Lup’s shoulder, and Lup turns her head to press a soft kiss to the side of her wrist. 

Lup snaps her fingers, lights the pipe again with a lick of flame. She takes another hit, leans in to offer Lucretia her exhale, and it’s _so hard_ keeping herself from just closing the distance and kissing her, but Lucretia makes herself wait, focus on inhaling, exhaling, breathing, and God, when she opens her eyes, she’s dizzy with it.

Lup sets the pipe on her nightstand, and as she turns the soft pastel light of her room catches her in profile, and it’s far more captivating than Lucretia remembers. It’s as if she can see the light finding every strand of her hair, illuminating every freckle, gilding every detail, and Lucretia thinks dimly that she could spend a whole cycle trying to paint the scene and still not get it right. And _oh,_ she thinks. _Oh._ She’s high. Huh.

She giggles. “Hey, Lup.”

Lup turns back to face her, wraps a hand around the back of Lucretia’s neck again, thumb stroking back and forth across her skin. “Hey, hon. How you feelin’?”

“High,” Lucretia replies, her voice ringing a little in her ears. She laughs again, because woah, weird. “I feel high. It’s good.”

Lup smirks, clearly amused, but willing to humor her. “I can tell, babe. I’m glad.” Her fingertips begin to press into Lucretia’s neck gently, pulling at the sore muscle underneath, working out the tension. 

Lucretia hums, relaxing into the touch. Her neck is always aching from her admittedly horrible writing posture, and Magnus always offers to fix it for her, but his hands are too strong and it just winds up hurting instead. _That’ll catch up to you when you’re old,_ he’ll say, and they’ll laugh, because it’s starting to feel like they’ll be twenty-two forever.  
This, though. This is nice. 

“Does that hurt?” Lup asks, and Lucretia shakes her head. 

“No,” she says, “Nothing hurts, actually? There’s always some part of my body that hurts, at least a little, but right now nothing hurts.”

“Weed does that,” Lup replies, “it’s nice, isn’t it?” 

Lucretia nods, and something occurs to her. “Yeah. Are you high yet?”

Lup laughs a little, and she stops kneading Lucretia’s neck but her hand never leaves, the weight still hot and comforting on her skin. “Nah, takes a lot to get me going. I’m buzzed, though, yeah. I’ll pack another bowl in a minute here and work my way through that, and then I should be good.”

Lucretia cocks her head a little. “What are you waiting for?” 

“Just making sure you’re alright,” Lup answers, and something about the look on her face is unbearably tender, and Lucretia itches a little but she’s not sure what for. “Wanted to be able to help if you got a bad high or somethin’.”

“I’m fine,” Lucretia says softly, but she leans forward to rest her forehead against Lup’s, eyes closed. “But thank you, that’s kind.” 

“No problem,” Lup says smoothly, and she drapes her arms around Lucretia’s neck, and Lucretia doesn’t know where to put her hands so she rests them in the dip of Lup’s waist, and for a moment, they’re quiet, content to be still and close. And it’s nice, it is, but Lucretia still _wants,_ and-

“Lup?” 

“Hm?”

“Will you kiss me already?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Lup kisses her, and for a moment, Lucretia forgets how to kiss back, but then she remembers, and _fuck,_ it’s been so long. 

The last person she kissed was Taako, seven cycles ago, drunk and on a dare. He had kissed her hard and filthy, as dramatic and intense as everything else about him, but it was only a few seconds before they’d both pulled back in disgust. She doesn’t do boys, he doesn’t do girls, and she was thinking about his sister, so it’s safe to say that it was all wrong. 

This is nothing like that.

Lup kisses her like they’ve got all the time in the world, and it’s funny, because they do. She kisses like she’s got all the time in the fucking world, like she plans to spend it just watching Lucretia unravel. It’s dizzyingly slow, open-mouthed, scorching. Lup licks into her mouth and Lucretia lets out a hot, sharp little noise, needy. She slips a hand down to fit her palm against Lup’s lower back, pull her closer, and she feels Lup gasp. 

She breaks the kiss, pulling away to leave a trail of soft kisses up her cheek, whisper in her ear, and Lucretia files Lup’s resulting shiver away in her mind.

“You're good at this,” she whispers, and Lup laughs, breathy and wild.

“I try,” she says, “but for what it's worth, you're not too bad yourself. Goddamn.”

Lucretia feels herself smirking, and she kisses Lup's ear softly, and then again, working her way towards the fine point of it, and she can feel Lup tremble in her arms. 

_“Fuck,”_ she whines, her voice paper-thin, sweet and high and strung out. “You _bitch.”_

Lucretia laughs, and she keeps going, each kiss a little more playful, more lingering, more of a tease. She’s on fire, working Lup up like this, hearing her whining and gasping and cursing under her breath. She feels bold. She feels a little mean. She thinks she could ruin Lup if given the chance, and she's drunk on the thought alone.

She reaches the tip of Lup's ear and pulls away, only for Lup to drag her back in for another kiss, harder this time. Lup sucks at her lower lip, bites, tugs at it a little, and she whimpers, because fuck if it isn't singing along all her nerves. Lup gets the hint, pulls her closer, bites a little harder. Lucretia melts, because everything is swimming and heavy and gorgeous-feeling and fuck, _Lup. Fuck_ her, she's good.

“God, you sound so fuckin’ pretty,” Lup says, pulling back, and Lucretia hides her face in Lup’s neck, trying to get herself back under control, her breath shaky and panting. “Biting, huh? I can work with that.”

“My neck,” Lucretia says, absently, so softly that it's a wonder that Lup even heard her.

“What about it, love?”

_Love,_ Lucretia thinks, lets it echo around her foggy thoughts for a moment. 

“It's, um,” she says, frowning a little as she tries to phrase it. “I like...I really like kisses, there. And biting.”

“Kinky,” Lup says, deadpan and snarky, but Lucretia laughs, and then they're both laughing, and Lup runs a palm along the back of her head, petting her hair softly, something edging on tender. 

Lucretia swallows against the growing realization in her throat and chokes a little.

“I'll keep that in mind. You good down there?” 

Lucretia hums softly, tucks her smile against Lup's neck, resting her head on her shoulder. “Mm-hm.”

Lup fits a palm against her ribs and Lucretia feels it through the wool of her sweater, soft and warm as it slides down to rest in the dip of her waist. “'Kay. Is it cool if I work through another bowl and catch up with you?”

“Yeah, feel free,” Lucretia answers, bringing a hand up to scratch Lup’s back gently, liking the feeling of the cotton under her fingertips. “I like watching you do it. You look so calm.”

Lup chuckles, reaching over to her nightstand to grab the pipe and the weed. “Yeah?”

Lucretia nods, shifting closer, feeling too far away from Lup even though she's practically sitting in her lap- and _huh, there's a thought._

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Can I- can I sit in your lap, maybe?”

“Sure thing, princess. Want me to hold you?” 

“That would be nice,” Lucretia muses, climbing into Lup's lap, draping her arms around her neck, pressing a kiss to the underside of her jaw. Lup wraps an arm around her, strong and steady. She takes a hit, closes her eyes, tilts her head back, blows out the smoke.

Lucretia starts humming, watching Lup's features relax as she works her way through the pipe, feeling her going lax and easy against her as the tension leaves her body with the smoke. It's a tune she's always known, one she learned from her mother, one that she still hums to herself to fall asleep at night.

“You singin’ for me, little bird?”

“I dunno,” Lucretia says. “Depends on if you like it or not.”

Lup laughs, and Lucretia feels herself flush with pride. Making Lup laugh has never been hard, but it always manages to feel like an accomplishment nevertheless. 

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to like it a lot,” Lup murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “You sound pretty.”

Lucretia shifts her head a bit on Lup's shoulder to look up at her. “That's gay,” she whispers conspiratorially, grinning, and Lup rears her head back and laughs, really laughs, full-bodied and unreserved. Lucretia can't help but laugh right along with her.

“You're gay too, stupid,” Lup says fondly.

“Mm.” Lucretia hums, as if to say _damn, you caught me._ “You high yet?”

Lup nods. “Yup, I'm right there with you, girl.”

“I'm glad. I want you to feel good,” Lucretia whispers before pressing her lips to Lup’s neck, kissing there, biting gently over the skin.

“Christ, Lucy. I thought the neck kisses were my job,” Lup says warmly, leaning into the touch.

“They were,” Lucretia replies, sitting up to settle herself in Lup’s lap, seated firmly on her soft thighs. “I was dropping hints because you were slacking.”

That gets a laugh out of Lup, even as Lucretia nips at the pulse in her throat. “Okay, point taken. C’mere, babe, let me kiss you.”

Lucretia leaves Lup's neck be for the time being, leaning in for a proper kiss instead. Lup licks into her mouth, bites at her lips. Lucretia sighs at the feeling, shifting a bit in Lup's lap. She closes her eyes as Lup kisses down her jaw, over her neck. Lucretia hums, content.

And then Lup _bites._

Lucretia hisses, _keens,_ twists into it and away from it all at once. It's perfect, not too hard, not too painful, just overwhelming and sharp in all the best ways.

Lup pulls back, concern on her face. “Too much?”

Lucretia shakes her head quickly, getting a hand tight in Lup's hair and pulling her back. “No, just right, do it again, please.”

“Fuck, yeah, okay. We're deffo gonna come back to this when we're sober. Look at you, God. All worked up.”

Lucretia whines, Lup working at her neck. “Not fair,” she says, “I can't decide if I want you to keep kissing me or keep talking.”

“Lucky for you, I'm good at multitasking, so you can have both,” Lup murmurs between kisses, biting at a spot on her neck over and over again, sucking it between her teeth, licking over the growing bruise every now and then to soothe it. 

Lucretia is having a hard time keeping her thoughts straight, especially with the weed amplifying things. The pain goes straight to the pit of her stomach, throbs low and hot. She whimpers, rolls her hips down a little, closes her eyes. “Fuck.”

Lup snickers, snaking a hand down to grip one of Lucretia's thighs. “You're cute when you curse.”

Lucretia glares at her, but doesn’t manage to put any actual heat behind it. 

“Is any kind of pain good?” Lup asks curiously, pulling back for a moment to look up at her. “Or is it just biting?”

“Just biting,” Lucretia clarifies. “And hair pulling, but that's all. Any other kind of pain is...bad.”

“Got it,” Lup says. “I'll be sure to remember that for next time, then.” 

It takes Lucretia’s mind a moment to catch up, but when Lup's words register, they make her heart pound. “Next time?”

Lup pauses, blinks, and then gives her a small smile, easy and genuine, the look in her eyes almost unbearably fond. She traces Lucretia's cheekbone with the backs of her knuckles, and Lucretia finds herself leaning into the touch, magnetic. “Oh, Lucy, babe, I'm sorry. You thought this was a one-time offer?”

She shrugs, looking away, opting to tuck her face into Lup's neck instead. The eye contact was suddenly too much. “I wasn't sure what to think, to be honest.”

Lup wraps her arms around her, holds her close, cradles her gently as if she were something precious. She presses the tiniest kiss to the top of Lucretia’s head. “Fuck, okay, I'm sorry. That's my fault, Luc. Sometimes I think I forget that bro-bro and I’s communication skills kinda leave a lot to be desired. It's easy to forget that the rest of the world doesn't run on twin telepathy.”

Lucretia prides herself on being a woman of words, but right now, she can't seem to find any. She settles for just kissing Lup on the cheek and listening.

“Tell you what, though. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? First thing, I promise, when we're both less out of it. I’ll make you brunch, and we'll sit down and we'll just talk. How does that sound?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Lucretia murmurs, soothed by Lup's voice and warmth and presence, her strong arms around her, her smell- an ungodly and chaotic but nevertheless familiar combination of weed, fruity lip balm, cardamom, and something acrid and burnt, like a chemistry experiment gone very wrong. She feels her senses blurring at the edges like fog under the weight of all this security. She wants to have this. She wants to let herself have this. “I'd say we could just talk now, but I'm getting kind of sleepy. Besides,” she continues, pausing to yawn. “Aren't you supposed to be ravishing me? I was promised kisses.”

Lup laughs, ducking down to kiss the tip of her nose. “God, you're cute, but something tells me you're gonna pass out on me pretty soon here, so let's take a raincheck on that, okay? There’ll be plenty of time for all that shit later, I guarantee it. Tomorrow we’ll talk, and after that, we can mess around as much as you want. Not tonight, though, we're both too out of it. Besides, I wanna make sure we're on the same page first, yeah?”

Lucretia sighs petulantly, but there's no real frustration behind it, because Lup is absolutely right, and they both know it. She finds one of Lup's hands with her own, traces the lines of her fingers, feeling over the tiny scars that litter her knuckles like stars, leftover trophies of a life on the road. “I'm not used to you being the voice of reason here,” she teases. “But yeah, you're right.”

“Well, it's a limited time offer, only available 'cause our usual voice of reason is high off her ass, so don't get too attached to it,” Lup jokes. “I'll be back on my bullshit soon, chickadee, don't you worry.”

“Oh, don't worry, I never doubted that for a second,” Lucretia says wryly, her voice warm. 

Lup scoffs in mock offense and swats her on the shoulder playfully. “Wow, okay, rude.” 

“Hey, I never said it wasn't an endearing quality of yours! I merely implied that it was very on brand, is all.”

Lup rolls her eyes but smiles in spite of herself as she shifts to lay back on the bed, gently pulling Lucretia down with her. “Fine, I'll let it slide, but just because you're cute and I like you, you fuckin’ nerd.”

“What can I say,” Lucretia snarks, deadpan and dry. “I'm charming.” She's cut off by a yawn on the last syllable, and she closes her eyes again, nestling herself up against Lup's side.

“You're sleepy, too. C’mere, you. I can't tell if I should call you sleeping beauty or prince charming. Princess charming? Whichever’s better.” Lup muses, folding an arm over her to pull her close, tugging the blankets up over the both of them. Lucretia is momentarily distracted by how warm and soft Lup's flannel sheets are.

“Prince is fine,” Lucretia slurs sleepily. “Sounds better, and I'm kinda butch anyway. Can I sleep here tonight?”

Lup laughs a little and snaps her fingers, and the light on her nightstand flicks off. _Showoff,_ Lucretia thinks dimly, fondly, and with that, she falls asleep before Lup even has a chance to answer.

_(“Of course you can, baby. Are you comf- aaaand she's gone.”)_

_(“Sweet dreams, Lucy.”)_

**Author's Note:**

> hey gamers whats up. hope u enjoyed these 7k words of self indulgent garbage. i have a permit and it says "im a lesbian i can do what i want"
> 
> anyway thanks for reading y'all! comments & kudos are super appreciated, this is my first fic for taz but its literally been in my WIP folder for like. eight months now RIP. whoops. pretty much all the other fics i have planned are taako & angus adoption storylines because in THIS house the only things we know how to write are horny repressed gay gals bein pals and, like, found family bonding lmao


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